Forced Proximity
2481 Words
ALEXANDER’S POV
“Tell me where she is.”
Lucas didn’t answer immediately and That was never a good sign. I stood behind my desk, staring at the anonymous message on my phone.
“You should have left Elena alone.”
The words had been sent less than five minutes ago but I had read them so many times that they had become burned into my mind.
“Lucas.”
“I’m checking.”
“You have thirty seconds.”
“You’ve become extremely patient over the years.”
“Twenty-five.”
“I’m working on it.”
I walked toward the windows. Los Angeles glittered beneath me, beautiful and indifferent.
Somewhere in that city, Elena was moving through her ordinary evening, unaware that someone had just threatened her because of me. The thought made something dark twist inside my chest.
I’d spent eight years believing the greatest danger to Elena had been my father’s influence but now I wasn’t so sure.
“Found her.”
I turned.
“Where?”
“She’s still at Hartwell.”
My shoulders relaxed slightly.
“Why?”
“She stayed behind to finish the Malibu project proposal.”
I glanced at the clock. It was almost eight.
“Is she alone?”
“According to security, yes.”
“Get someone to stay with her.”
“I already did.”
“Good.”
“And Alexander?”
“What?”
“You’re going there yourself, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I knew it.”
“I’ll call you when I get there.”
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
I ended the call. Then I grabbed my jacket. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
Eight years ago, I had allowed fear to dictate my decisions but tonight, fear was going to make me move.
The drive to Hartwell took twenty-two minutes. I made it in fifteen.
When I entered the building, the receptionist looked startled.
“Mr. Sterling?”
“Is Elena Hart still here?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Conference room three.”
I didn’t wait for an escort because I knew the building well enough.
As I approached the conference room, I saw light beneath the door.
I knocked once. No answer. I opened it.
Elena was sitting at the table, surrounded by documents. Her laptop was open and her hair had fallen loose from the ponytail she’d worn earlier.
She looked tired. And beautiful.
She looked up and her expression immediately changed.
“You.”
I closed the door. “Me.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Checking on you.”
“I don’t need checking on.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
I walked toward the table.
“Because someone threatened you.”
Her expression hardened.
“You shouldn’t have told me.”
“I shouldn’t have?”
“You’re making this bigger than it is.”
“Someone sent you anonymous messages.”
“Someone sent you one too.”
“Exactly.”
She stared at me.
“How did you know?”
“I saw the message.”
She frowned.
“You accessed my phone?”
“No.”
“Then how?”
“You showed it to me this morning.”
She looked down.
“I forgot.”
“I didn’t.”
Silence. Then I pulled out the chair opposite her.
“What are you doing?”
“Working.”
“At eight at night?”
“I have a deadline.”
“You should go home.”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
“I wasn’t giving you an order.”
“It sounded like one.”
I sighed. “Elena.”
“What?”
“I don’t know how to do this.”
Her expression softened slightly. “Do what?”
“Be around you without trying to protect you.”
She looked away.
“You can’t protect me from everything.”
“I know.”
“You need to understand that.”
“I do.”
“Then stop acting like I’m fragile.”
“I don’t think you’re fragile.”
“What do you think?”
I looked directly at her. “I think you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”
Her eyes flickered.
“Then treat me like it.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
She returned to her laptop while I remained seated. After a few seconds, she looked up.
“Are you planning to leave?”
“Yes.”
I stood. Then the lights went out. Elena gasped.
The entire building plunged into darkness. Emergency lights flickered red along the hallway and I immediately moved toward her.
“Stay here.”
“Alexander”
“Don’t move.”
I pulled out my phone and turned on the flashlight.
The building was silent. Too silent. I listened. Nothing. Then, a metallic crash sounded somewhere down the hallway.
Elena stood. “What was that?”
“I don’t know.”
Another crash, and it sounded closer.
I moved in front of her.
“Stay behind me.”
“Alexander.”
“Please.”
She heard something in my voice and stopped arguing.
I reached for the door.
“Elena, we’re leaving.”
We stepped into the hallway. The emergency lights cast long shadows across the walls. I kept one hand slightly behind me, making sure Elena stayed close.
“Where’s security?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.”
We reached the elevator and I pressed the button but nothing happened.
“Power outage,” Elena said.
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
I looked at her.
“We’re taking the stairs.”
We moved toward the stairwell. The door opened and a loud alarm suddenly erupted making her jump.
I immediately grabbed her hand.
“It’s okay.”
Her fingers tightened around mine and for one second, neither of us moved.
Her hand was warm. Small against mine. Familiar, too familiar.
She looked at our joined hands, then at me.
I released her.
“Sorry.”
She swallowed.
“It’s fine.”
We descended two flights, then the emergency lights came back on and we stopped.
She exhaled. “Maybe it really was just a power failure.”
“Maybe.”
She looked at me.
“You don’t believe that.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because everything around you has become suspicious since you came back into my life.”
She frowned.
“That’s dramatic.”
“Is it?”
I stepped closer.
“Your company is acquired.”
“You acquire my company.”
“You receive anonymous threats.”
“So do I.”
“You discover photographs from eight years ago.”
“You discovered those.”
“And someone knows about the night we separated.”
She went quiet and I watched her face.
“That’s not coincidence.”
“I know.”
The admission surprised me.
“You believe me?”
“I believe something is wrong.”
I nodded.
“Good.”
She looked down the staircase.
“What do we do?”
“I take you home.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“I have work.”
“You’re not staying here.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I know you can.”
“Then…”
“I need to know you’re safe.”
She stared at me and the anger in her eyes softened.
“You really haven’t changed.”
I almost smiled.
“Neither have you.”
We returned to the conference room when the power had stabilized. Elena gathered her laptop while I picked up some of the documents.
She looked at me.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping.”
“I don’t need help.”
“You have twenty-three pages of projections spread across three tables.”
She glanced around.
“Fine.”
We worked in silence and for the first time since we’d reunited, the silence didn’t feel uncomfortable. It felt familiar, like the countless evenings we’d spent together as teenagers.
She would study, I’d pretend to study. Mostly, I’d watch her and she'd eventually catch me staring, then she’d throw a pencil at me.
“You’re doing it again.”
I looked up.
“Doing what?”
“Staring.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“Maybe you’re imagining things.”
She smiled faintly.
“I know you too well.”
The words hit me harder than she realized and I looked back at the documents.
“I missed that.”
Her smile disappeared.
“Missed what?”
“Us.”
She didn’t answer.
I turned a page and a few minutes passed before she said quietly, “I missed you too.”
I stopped breathing and she seemed surprised she’d said it.
“I didn’t mean…”
“I know.”
She looked down.
“I mean, I missed who you were.”
“I am still him.”
“No.”
Her voice softened.
“You’re different.”
“So are you.”
“I had to be.”
“I know.”
She looked at me.
“Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t left?”
Every day. I didn’t say it. Instead, I answered honestly.
“Yes.”
“What do you think?”
“I think I’d have married you.”
Her breath caught.
“You were seventeen.”
“I was certain.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
She looked away.
“What if we’d stayed together?”
“I would have found a way.”
“Your father?”
“I would have fought him.”
“You didn’t.”
“I know.”
She swallowed.
“That’s what hurts.”
I leaned back.
“I know.”
“I needed you to fight for me.”
“I know.”
“And you didn’t.”
“I know.”
She looked at me.
“Stop saying that.”
“What?”
“I know.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Because you keep saying it like understanding my pain makes it disappear.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Then what does?”
I looked at her.
“Time.”
She laughed bitterly.
“We’ve had eight years.”
“Not together.”
Silence.
I wanted to reach across the table, to touch her but I didn’t. At least not yet. She deserved the choice.
It was nearly ten when we finally left the office.
I insisted on driving her home and she protested for exactly three minutes before giving up.
My driver waited outside, but I dismissed him.
“I’ll drive.”
Elena looked at me.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Do you even remember how?”
“I’ve been driving since I was sixteen.”
“You used to drive like a maniac.”
“I was seventeen.”
“You nearly killed us.”
“I didn’t.”
“You hit a mailbox.”
“It was in the road.”
She laughed and I looked at her.
There it was, that laugh, the one I’d spent eight years missing.
“You remember that?”
“Unfortunately.”
“I’m glad.”
“Why?”
“Because it means you remember us too.”
Her laughter faded and she looked out the window.
“I remember everything.”
The words settled heavily between us.
I drove in silence. When we reached her apartment, I parked outside.
She unfastened her seat belt.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Tonight.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I know.”
She opened the door.
“Elena.”
She turned.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For all of it.”
Her expression softened. “I’m still angry.”
“I know.”
“But…” She hesitated. “But I’m beginning to believe you.”
My heart stopped.
“Thank you.”
She nodded. Then she stepped out. I watched her walk toward the building. She turned once and our eyes met. Then she disappeared inside.
I remained in the car.
For the first time in eight years, hope felt dangerous and I was willing to risk it.
ELENA’S POV
I couldn’t sleep. I stood at my bedroom window, looking down at the street. Alexander’s car was still parked outside. He hadn’t left.
I should have been annoyed. Instead, I felt strangely safe and that frightened me.
I touched my lips and the memory of his hand around mine in the stairwell returned. It was innocent, nothing had happened, yet my body remembered him, my heart remembered him.
Everything about him felt familiar and that was the problem.
I had spent eight years building walls. Tonight, he had found the first crack.
My phone buzzed. I frowned.
Unknown number.
My heart immediately accelerated.
I opened the message.
“You think Alexander is protecting you.” Another message appeared. “He’s not.”
I stared. Then a final message arrived.
“Ask him what happened to your father eight years ago.”
My blood ran cold. My father? What did Alexander have to do with him?
I immediately typed, “Who are you?”
No response.
I tried calling but the number was unavailable.
I stared at the screen. Then my apartment doorbell rang.
Once. I froze. Another ring.
I looked toward the door and saw that it was almost midnight. No one should have been there.
I slowly approached.
“Who is it?”
Silence. My pulse raced. Then a man’s voice came through the door.
“It’s me.”
Alexander.
I opened the door and he stood there, his expression tense.
“What happened?”
He looked at me. Then at my phone.
“I got another message.”
My stomach dropped. “So did I.”
He stepped inside.
“What did yours say?”
I handed him my phone.
He read it and his face changed.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“I don’t know anything about your father’s disappearance.”
I stared at him.
“Disappearance?”
He went completely still.
“Elena…”
“What do you mean, disappearance?”
He slowly lowered the phone.
“I thought your father told you.”
“Told me what?”
His expression became grim. “Your father didn’t just lose his company eight years ago.”
My heart began pounding.
“What happened to him?”
Alexander looked directly into my eyes. “He disappeared the same night I left you.”
The room went silent and I couldn’t breathe.
And suddenly, the past I’d spent eight years trying to understand became much darker than a broken teenage romance.
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